


A little bit too much

by Maliktouch



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-14
Updated: 2013-09-14
Packaged: 2017-12-26 13:56:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/966728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maliktouch/pseuds/Maliktouch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Life isn´t easy for most of us. There are drastic changes around every corner and you´ve got no control. </p><p>Or the one where Harry works in a crisis centre and Louis is filled to the brim with pain within is own head.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A little bit too much

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is the first fic I have ever finished. I am very sorry for potential mistakes and grammar errors. I am not from England, I am most certainly not any of the One Direction boys and English is not my language. It might seem a bit short on information and such - so I really am sorry, but I´ve been working on this for about a years time and I just can´t get any further.
> 
> **also my paragraphs sucks woops

Harry  


Harry breathes in the cold, dirty London air and crosses the street behind a fancy hotel. Hurriedly he rounds the corner and stumble up the short staircase in front of a small Starbucks booth. It’s too damn early, but first day at work after a short break for Christmas cannot be missed by a second. He can see the green door approximately a fewhundred metres away, but the coldness makes it seem like a thousands. Yet, the struggle is doable. Harry enters the door with a sigh and gives a smile to Eleanor at the front desk. She returns it with a nod and scribbles down a phone number while she clings onto the phone. ‘...45, yes, 86, I´ve got it, we´ll call you back in an hour. Good bye,’ she hangs up. 

Tired as hell, he grabs the post from the mailbox and goes into his office. He slips out of his coat with a grunt and flings it over the chair in the corner. Steadily he takes a seat behind his desk. Apart from the phone call, it’s a quiet morning. No patients yet. Relief floats through his entire being, a busy morning is definitely something he does not desires after an entire week of partying. Since his family, which consists of his mother, Anne and his sister, Gemma, went to the Caribbean, he’s been spending the vacation with other abandoned mates. Niall couldn’t afford a week of vacation to go back to Ireland, so he was stuck in London along with Harry and Zayn – which suffers from family loss. Well, he himself - would never admit that he actually suffers from anything. But they are well aware of the grief he feels of his mother’s death. His sisters cut the contact when he neither came to the funeral nor showed any type of emotion whenever they spoke to him. ‘It´s like you´re gone, Zayn.’ ‘It was mom who died, not you!’ ‘God damn, do something Zayn, say something!’ They couldn´t get a single word out of him. 

Harry’s used to people who shut down, hell, he was one of them at a point. That’s probably why he puts up with Zayn. And Niall is a really great guy, even if you don´t provide food and shelter whenever he needs it. But if you do, it is all he will ever ask of you. Although it seems like a tough deal, it really isn’t. It only lasts for a maximum of two weeks, and then he’s off your couch and in a new flat. Right now, he works in a pub with some shady guy, whom he isn’t sure is selling drugs or whatever. Something is not right about the place. Might as well be the people, it’s filled to the rim with escaped prisoners and people on parole. But the pub has a flat above which is Niall’s home at the moment. But if he screws up work he loses the flat too. He might lose his life too, what does he know.

So who was Harry to complain, what he had done was nothing less criminal than the guys at the pub. He just wasn´t aware at the moment.

With their little group of friends, he’s had a pretty hard vacation, but worth every penny. Dealing with depressed and anxious patients almost every day, has its burden, and sometimes he needs to let loose and let everything go. He needs for eveything to be forgotten for a night or two. Yet he couldn’t see himself doing anything else. This is what he wants to do, at least that´s what he tells himself as the flashbacks fills his head. It’s only been a year and a half since he got his job at the crisis centre and it’s absolutely crazy to think that he’s gotten this far. Being twentyfive and already having a steady carrier is absolutely fantastic. He sighs yet again and starts going through the files on his desk. On top, there is a big, thick collection of messy papers. The front of the file says ‘Louis Tomlinson, assigned Grimshaw.’ A yellow form is half way outside the folder, a tiny picture is attached with a little clip. There´s a man staring back at him with a three days old stubble and heavy bags beneath his eyes. Harry feels dizzy as he sees his blue eyes, they feel familiar. He rubs his temples and rests his head on the desk for a second. Blue headlights and vibrating music fills his mind, it feels like a couple of hundred people is surrounding him. He shakes his head and pushes back from the desk. With as casual steps as possibe he walks out to the front desk again and taps the glass. Eleanor peaks up from the computer. ‘Is Grimshaw in yet?’ She nods and continues tapping away at the keyboard. 

As he´s about to knock on Nick´s door, the green door in the lobby bursts open with force. The cold wind swirls around. Harry turns around at the sudden bang and stares questionly at a little boy with a light brown, slick quiff. It´s the man from the picture. Harry closes his eyes and swears he can smell the liquor and apple martinis. Unsure of what he´s supposed to do, Harry slowly walks towards him. ‘Hey,’ he waves carefully at him. ‘Hey, are you alright?’ The man looks at him with empty eyes. ‘I´m here to see Nick.’ He says. His voice is dead flat.

When the man passes him in a hurry, the cold hits him like a shovel. He can hear the door behind him close with another bang. As little he wants to ever see this man again, he has to go to Grimshaw´s office with the file. Harry knocks twice and waits nervously. After a couple of seconds, a skinny face with brown curls opens the door. He smiles a little. ‘Morning, Harry. What´s the matter?’ ‘Good morning, Nick.’ Harry pushes the file in his hands and starts to go back to his own office. ‘They were left at my desk.’ He finally reaches his office and closes the door with ease. Sometimes it´s not so great to work here. Ice-cold patients are not pleasant to help.  


Louis

_ At the stage in the corner, there is a young man gripping his microphone with steady hands. He´s singing a slow song, eyeing Louis now and then. Singing a slow song at a halloween party is pretty wicked. But as if that isn´t enough, the whole club is joinging in. This wasn´t what Louis came here for, he rolls his eyes and moves towards the bar. A pretty blonde comes up to him quickly. ‘Whatya want?’ he says. ‘I´ll have a pint and an apple martini.’ Louis waits for his drinks while eyeing the preformer. It looks like the song is about to end, because he´s on his way towards the DJ. As his train of thoughts ends, so does the song. The lanky preformer is dressed in leather from head to toe. Louis thinks he´s suppoed to be cat woman. Well, each with it´s own taste._ __

_ Two apple martinis later, and a ‘I´ll be right back,’ form his mate Liam, there´s a third martini sliding towards him over the bar. Raising an eyebrow at the bartender, he recieves a nod towards the end of the bar. Cat woman is sirkling his olive in his drink, giving Louis dirty looks. ‘Ugh,’ he groans and downs the drink in two gulps. Giving a quick thumbs up to the guy, he heads over to the exit. He looks back to make sure he´s not followed, but cat woman is already gone. He sighs with relief and pulls up his phone to text Liam a quick goodbye when his arm is grabbed. ‘Hey!’ He looks ups at a very, very tall cat woman. ‘I´m not interested, thanks for the drink tho.’ Louis gives him a litte smile and shakes his head. The guy is still holding his arm. ‘Let me go,’ he says and reaches for the door with his other arm. ‘I said fuck off mate.‘ He sets his eyes in him, shooting invisible daggers as if it would work._

_Surprisingly he seems to be strong, pulling him towards the toilets and throws him into a booth within five minutes . _ _He steps in after Louis, watching him closely as if to make sure he doesn´t run. Louis could only wish. ‘Hey, mate, just let me go, I won´t tell anyone.’ He just shuts the door and twists the lock. ‘I swear to God, I won´t tell anyone!’ Louis beats a fist against his chest. But cat woman grabs his wrist and turns him around. ‘No, no, no.’ Louis pleads. ‘Please, just leave me alone.’ He breathes in ragged breaths. The guy answers with a warm, sweaty hand on his neck. ‘Bend over,’ he says with a hoarse voice. It´s so demanding to which points it frightens him to an almost paralyzed state. ‘No, no, no, come on, dude, what the fuck,’ Panic starts shooting waves of electrocution up his spine. A black layer covers up his eyes, his body tenses before going slack. The stall is spinning, the toilet is about to spill over. Or maybe he is. ‘I´ll fucking scream,’ he says, trying to look over his shoulder weakly. He can only see the side of the black mask before he´s being pushed roughly against the icy wall. There´s a rippling sound, and then theres a mask pulled hastily over his head. He guesses it´s the one cat woman was just wearing. ‘Don´t you fucking dare,’ the other man says and reaches for his throat. He holds it harshly in his palm and pushes his head against his own chest as if to give a preformance of a strangling._   
  
_‘Don´t you fucking dare.’_

_He feels the guy duck down and his nails scrape down his legs as he rips his pants of. ‘Stop,’ He cries it out, slurring it with snot. ‘Shut up,’ the guy in leather snarls and spreads his legs. The feeling of unfamiliar hands on his thights makes his stomach knot. Too paralyzed to fight him back, he just holds around himself for protection._

_'Please,' he hears him open the zipper and pull down his leather pants. He guesses the underwear follows suit. There´s a little pause between the sound of the zipper and before he touches him again. The big palm spreads his legs even wider and touches his ass with a firm grip. ‘..please, don´t,’ he´s begging. His voice is soaked in white fear even as he whispers. He´s pushed as far down as he goes towards the toilet bowl. The air is impossible to breathe, it´s so thick you could have made snowangels of just air. Louis can´t hold around himself anymore, forced against the toilet, he has to support himself with his hands. He chockes on his spit as he feels the cock push into him. Tears streams wildly down his cheeks, his eyes are sore and puffy. Mouth wide agape, he breathes hard. But the intakes are so short that his lungs will simply not take up any oxygen. Snot is blocking his nose and his throat is filled with slime. Unable to hold it in, he lets out a chocked cry. It earns him a harsh slap at the back of his head. The front hits the toilet with a crack._   
  
_The world turns black._

  
Harry  
  
He hurries towards the office while glancing at his watch. «Aaah, fuck, I can´t be late again,» he mutters angrily and stomps in the door. It´s been a month since Harry´s first interference with Louis, he´s seen him a couple of times after that. Either yelling angrily at Eleanor or crying so hardt he could feel it in his own ribs. He still remembers the first day; what has changed?

They had met in the crisis centre. He had been lost and scared, a violent soul searching for answers but he couldn’t find them. There were daggers in Harry’s chest each time he watched him stand in the middle of the waiting-room. Day in, day out - incapable of living, incapable of fixing himself. His tears had streamed down his own face in time with Louis’. But as long as he was a patient here, Harry couldn’t touch him. Not the way he wanted to. He wasn’t his psychiatrist; he couldn’t do anything to fix the man who was so incredibly lost. He was left standing in the doorway, staring at a broken man’s sob.

He used to be fulfilled once, the broken man. There had been a smile pressed willingly to his lips and a glow in those wonderful blue eyes of his. Essential happiness had been connected to his every move.

At Louis’ last session Harry’s green orbs ran swiftly over him before quickly looking down at his feet. The man should have been better by now, yet it hurt everywhere. He was not fine. You could see it in his limbs, in the way he walked. A small teardrop escaped his eyes as he pressed them shut. It created a monstrous waterfall just before his limbs gave out and pulled his body towards the floor. But he wasn’t weak. Tears are only the words that cannot be spoken, words that are too loaded to be let out with the tongue, too loud to be sounded with syllables. They are proof that you are indeed a living person, one with soul and desperately in need for release. 

That day Harry had taken the chance to find out where Louis lived, and offered to take him home. Clrearly Louis wasn´t cabable of getting himself home and Grimshaw´s next patient had already arrived for her appointment. He drove him home in silence. Louis had passed out in the back, one arm slung over his face as if to hide it. Was he shy? Even after all those times he´d been crying in public? But that wasn´t anything he could control.

When they arrived Louis shabby, little flat, the straight haired man had asked him to come back for tea the next day. ‘You´re fine‘ he´d purred before closing the door on him - just as if he´d not been sobbing his heart out a couple of minutes before. Just a tiny bit confused Harry leaves the neighborhood in a hurry.

There´s a flash of recognition.

 

  
  
Louis  
  
A week later, Harry shows up at his door. There´s a slow, uncertain knocking on his wooden door. Hastily he opens it up and peaks his head out. A golden man with soft curls, pushed out of the way with a plaid shirt is looking at him. ‘Hello, Louis.’ He smiles to him, but he looks nervous. As if he was torn between two choices. Louis smiles back and opens the door completely for him. ‘Hello, dr. Styles, how are you this evening?’ ‘It´s 9am, Louis, it´s morning. Also, I would like it if you could adress me as Harry.’ He stutters. Louis takes his hand and drags him inside. ‘Well then, Harry, would you like a cup of tea?’ Harry nods and slips o  ut of his jacket. His lips are chopped, yet he let´s his teeth meet lips and bites, drags and licks. One, two, three. It´s like a bloody countdown. Mesmerized buy a couple of lips, Louis stumbles over the rack of shoes on his way to the kitchen. He coughs. ‘Would you like some milk or sugar in your tea?’

Harry shouts from the livingroom. ‘Yes, please!’ Louis adds a couple spoons of sugar and pours the white river of milk into the cup. Slowly, yet fast, the milk turns like a tornado before settling down. He takes both cups in his hands before carefully sliding his way back into the livingroom.  
A little shakingly he reach out to give Harry his cup, in the middle their hands meet. None of them let go for a while. Louis blinks and pushes the tea in his hands. ‘There you go,’ he smiles weakly and looks down. Fiddling with his hands. He´s put his own mug down on the white little table. ‘So, what finally brings you here?’ Louis looks up at him for a tiny moment, feeling the blush creep towards his cheeks.

Harry

It´s been a couple of months since he started meeting up with Louis. It´s been a month since he started dating him. It´s been a week since Louis had his first breakdown since he quit going to his psychiatrist, it was the week he told him that he´d read his file. He´s still in the grey colours of his office, locked down with heavyness that´s not even his. And he figures it wasn´t love he had felt when he saw Louis in the lobby, it was pure lust. He had mistaken the burried lust soaked with regret and remorse with love and pity. Harry flinches. The file in his hand had felt ice cold and burning hot at the same time. He wants to forget. His vision turns blurry, his breath ragged. There is a knife in his chest. Desperately he tries to breathe, but it´s impossible. 

None the less, Louis´ got another bad day today, so Harry goes to the little coffee shop at the corner before coming over despite feeling not so good - he has no right to feel sorry for himself. He picks up a couple of blueberry muffins and coffee, silently thanking the employee while discretly drying a fat tear. He pushes the entrance door open with his arm, and rushes out. It´s so silent today. Even the cars and birds. His feet slams against the pavement, swirling up small dust clouds on his way to Louis´apartment. Slowly knocking before entering, he sets the bag carefully down in the kitchen before sneaking up on Louis in the couch. He can´t hear him breathe even as he comes closer, but he sees his shoulders heave up and down in uncontrollable pulls. Harry bends over and traps him in a warm grip before hauling him up from the couch and over to their bed. Their. They´re moving fast with their relationship. What is he doing?

Harry wraps them up in a thousands of blankets and settles in with Louis breathing in his neck, folds his arms tightly around his soft waist. Without breaking the silence, he breathes pretty words in his ear. He rhymes beautiful rhymes, and strokes his back. He soaks him in tiny, little kisses all over his red, puffy face.

 

  
  
Louis

Sometimes you love too much. As Harry cups his cheek and kisses down his throat, this is what Louis thinks. Soft, wet lips caressing skin like it’s the last time he’ll ever see him. As if this is the worlds end. It isn’t. It hurts. It does and he’s not going to lie. It hurts so much, even though it’s so warm and loving - only because love is all. Love is surrounding all of him, tucking his bones between his arms, pushing a fragile body against his chest with loving words in his ear. While his quiet tears runs down his throbbing cheeks, a clumsy hand gathers his arms together and carefully traces his pulse all the way down to his fingertips. ‘I,’ he starts. That’s when he closes his eyes. The man tucked into his love’s chest, hearing the words forming in the other’s mouth. ‘I love you so much, Louis.’ It’s barely a breath, but it’s there. It’s out and running, scolding his skin like boiling water. That’s what you get for true affection. Warm, pure love.

Breathe in.   
Breathe out.  
Everything hurts.

He turns around a little to curl his body around Harry’s and slips his tiny fingers between Harry’s major. A returned squeeze sends electric pulses up his arm. Slowly his chest evens out before his breath joins in a little lullaby. A light snore parts Louis’ lips and Harry think he’s asleep. Tears burst from Harry´s eyes and there’s no stopping it. Louis can feel it. He kisses Louis forehead and feels the sob blocking his lungs before he can help himself. How is he supposed to lay still when everything is messed up?

All Louis can think about is Harry. But Harry is the one who read his file. Harry knows everything.

 

  
  
Harry

As the early summerbreeze wells in through the window next morning he finds the bed empty. Not that that isn’t normal, Louis is a morning bird. His eyes slip shut and he fumbles with his arm till he can find his phone. Way too quickly he opens his eyes just to burn them again in the bright sunlight that streams through the open blinds. Slowly he finds his phone. A quick swipe through his playlist before he puts on I love my life by Elektrik People. He rises from the bed and walks over oak boards covered with raven-black carpets before putting his phone in the speakers. Harry makes his way to the kitchen and yells happily. ‘Breakfast in fifteen!’ His voice is raspy from last night. His heart stings from the thought. Thinking about it makes him walk right into a doorframe and sends him flat to the floor.

‘Shit,’ he mumbles and gets up before he continues to the kitchen. ‘Bacon, give me some bacon,’ he sings. It’s cold inside. He looks over to the fireplace. ‘Louis, why haven´t you lit the fireplace?’ His voice carries through the hallway and slams right against the bathroom door. Something´s wrong. ‘Hey, Lou, you alright in there,’ he knocks his fist hard against the wood. ‘Louis!’

Silence.

He knocks again. ‘Will you answer me!’

Fears starts pulsing through his veins. For a moment he closes his eyes and let´s the fear have its moment. He let´s it control his body for a slight moment. The moment seizes him completely after that. It´s no longer a moment. It´s a lifetime. Full of force, his knuckles are aiming for the door. He feels the chill air against his hot skin, he feels it whine past all four knuckles before they hit the door with rage. ‘Louis, let me in,‘ it´s a scream. It´s a shriek on the top of his throat. It burns and sets it mark. It´s fear. Boiling bloody poisonus fear.

Eventually the fear is everything. It is his very core. A sudden strengt pulses fast, hard, and violently through his blood. Again and again, he slams his fist fast and sloppily against the white door. He slams, and slams, and slams. Untill he gets enough and feels his leg swing back and crashing forward so fast he can´t even take a breath before he feels the pain shoot up his foot. But it pays up, as he sees the door break in. The world stands still for a second. ´cause that´s all there is time for. He feels the ripp as a deathly scream rolls up the walls of throat. His hand clashes with his chest so fast he leaves a mark. He clutches his shirt with white, bloody knuckles and feels the world crashing upon him. Part by part, his body shuts down. His legs give in and bends beneath him before sending him crashing for the floor. There´s no time to catch himself, there´s no reason why he would want to. Because in the bathtub lies a man. He´s soaked in bloody water from head to toe. The water´s so red you would think it was just the blood. His left hand is gone. It´s just a gaping hole of flesh and bone. His eyes are open, but there is no life in them. There is nothing. There´s only a dead body, left for Harry to find soaked in lost life. A large knife is balancing on the fingertips of his right hand. Dried blood is splattered and dragged over the blade. Layer upon layer.

There´s a letter peaking out in a corner beneath a couple of magazines. A ray of sunshine makes the clearness of white paper light up. His hands are shaking badly but he crawls over. He has to. With a weary look draped across his face he picks up the piece of paper and folds it open.  


  
He doesn´t want to read it.  
  
 _«Dear Harry,_  
 _I love you very much._  
  
 _Yet the thought of you knowing every single detail about me is not comforting. Everytime I feel like I have caught a break, I remember that you have read my file, and then I panick. You knowing about the rape the way you do now, was not my intention. You knowing about my thoughts and feelings at every moment of the day is not ok. I do not want you to read my mind like this shrink has had the opportunity to. You are my boyfriend, I just want your support Harry. That is all I want. You took my dignity away from me._  
  
 _I didn´t ask for a man who would put me in quarantine. I don´t want this, Harry!_

_ We are individual beings. I think for myself, I watch out for myself, I live for myself. I do not live for you or anyone else. I do not live by your standards nor do I live for Nick Grimshaw´s standards. I live for what I have. I live for surviving because I know by letting myself go to hell, I will drag you with me. I am aware that you would do anything for me; yet there is nothing you can do darling. There is nothing for you to save or fix. It is all on me. I have to do this myself. And I am so, so sorry that this is the way it has to end. _

  
I want you to know, that I hope you take care of yourself when I am gone. I want you to know that I love you very, very much. Even though when you read this, I am gone.  
    Do not be angry with me, I beg of you. Do not be angry with yourself, there was nothing you could do. I just could not handle it anymore. I am so tired, Harry. You knowing all those details about me was what drew the line. But this is not your fault. I understand you, yet, I feel betrayed.  
  
Take care of yourself. Do not let anyone hurt you. Ever. Do not let me down, live your life to the fullest. I was just a bump in the road. Get up again.  
  
Lots and lots of love,  
Louis»

But he had to.

‘You took my dignity,’ Harry nods. ‘I took it twice, Louis, I took it twice.’ It stings. Swirling around in his head agian and again. ‘I was just a bump in the road. Get up again.’  
  
‘It was me, Louis,’ he cries. ‘It was my fault, I did this to you.’  
But Louis is dead. And it´s his fault, wether Louis knew it or not. There is no one left to scream at. So he screams to himself. He screams to an empty room.


End file.
